


Equal and Opposite Reaction

by SilenceIsGolden15



Series: Voltron Oneshots [43]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anxiety, Galaxy Garrison, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Pre-Kerberos Mission, SUPER LIGHT THO
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 08:32:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18426879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilenceIsGolden15/pseuds/SilenceIsGolden15
Summary: Anxiety doesn't always make sense.





	Equal and Opposite Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> Just something small to keep you guys busy while I work on a longer oneshot.

The day was going pretty much how every day went. Keith got ready at seven a.m., went to classes, took his notes, and tried not to provoke any of the other cadets who seemed to have it out for him. Not a particularly good day, but not a particularly bad one either. Until he got to fifth period.

Being the first class after lunch break, the classroom was usually rather rowdy and loud in the minutes before the lecture began. While his classmates talked and fooled around, Keith sat in his corner desk and laid out his notebook and pen, then busied himself gazing out the window at the surrounding desert. He traced the cliff’s edges with his eyes, followed them down into plunging canyons and ravines, then up again onto boxy plateaus. 

The slam of the classroom door jolted him from his reverie and drew his attention to the front of the room. The professor had just strode in, and something was off-- Professor Montgomery never usually closed the door so hard. 

It took only seconds for Keith to read the signs. Clenched jaw, narrow eyes, the distinct tilt to her mouth and the tic as she moved her head. 

The professor was angry. 

Instantly Keith’s stomach clenched and cold spread to his fingertips as he shrunk in his seat. He had no idea what had made the professor so upset, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

Two minutes later (after some angry thumping of books on her desk which only increased the population of the resident butterflies in Keith’s stomach) Professor Montgomery called the class to order. The teenagers had a bit of trouble settling down, and Keith flinched at every word spoken as she pulled them together. Couldn’t they see her body language, read the tone of her voice? Was he just imagining it?

She took her place at the head of the class, hands folded primly behind her, her uniform crisp and unwrinkled, eyes like laser beams. She hadn’t directed them at him yet, but still Keith found himself worrying his lower lip between his teeth. 

“I am very disappointed,” she began, and Keith’s stomach found a new home in his shoes. She continued, still staring straight ahead, “Over fifty percent of this class did not pass the last exam.”

The professor let the statement hang in the air of the now dead silent classroom. From the corners of his eyes Keith could see several students exchanging chagrined looks and sliding down in their seats. He had no reason to be afraid, he’d gotten his paper back already and he’d gotten a ninety-two percent, but still he kept his eyes fixed on the blank page before him and didn’t look up. 

“I would like to remind all of you that this is a prestigious military institution, designed to cultivate and train the next generation of astro-explorers and engineers.”

All of them knew that, all the posters and marketing and speeches said it, but the way she said it sounded less like a motto and more like an ultimatum. An ultimatum they, as a group, had failed to meet. 

Keith clenched his fists under his desk.

“Someone is paying a significant amount of money for all of you to attend this school, whether that someone be your parents, the government, or a scholarship program. By not taking this seriously you are not only wasting their time and money, but also the time of every instructor and student in this facility, as well as the many other children who could be in your place.” 

Her whole speech so far had been even toned, but cold and hard all the same, and her eyes flashed. It wasn’t wild, out of control, burning rage-- it was condensed, calculated fury, and that in Keith’s experience was even worse. People are capable of awful things when they were out of control, but even worse were the things they could do while in control. Something pressed against his throat and he swallowed it down. 

_ Calm down,  _ he told himself,  _ she didn’t mean you, you’re doing fine, you’re not wasting anything,  _ but still the anxiety persisted. Just because he hadn’t yet drawn her ire didn’t mean he wouldn’t. He’d learned that when adults were angry any little thing could trigger an attack. It was safer to appease, to keep quiet and low and out of the way, until they’d calmed. 

“I expect better of you in the future.” With that last harsh sentence, she did a quick about-face to the board and began the lesson. 

Keith paid extra close attention that day, quietly bouncing his leg under his desk in the hopes it would expel the nervous energy still coiled in his muscles. The only time he stopped is when she walked the aisles to gather papers; then he went completely still, ducked his head, and didn’t meet her eye. 

Professor Montgomery breezed by without comment, and Keith released the breath he’d been holding. When the bell rang (and she’d dismissed them-- he wasn’t falling for that trick) he packed his things quickly and hustled out of the room, his pace carefully calculated to be fast enough not to make her impatient but not fast enough to piss her off, and as he crossed before her desk he kept his head down and once again held his breath. 

She said nothing to anyone else, and he made it into the hallway without incident. 

His hands shook all the way to his next class. 

 


End file.
